How Not to Read Your Friends
by Smackalicious
Summary: It's McGee's birthday and Ziva has a present for him, but Tony is worried about what it may be. Written as a Hangman prize for Oxymoronic Alliteration ages ago. Oneshot. McGiva!


**Title: How Not to Read Your Friends  
Pairing: McGee/Ziva  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Het  
Cat: Romance, Humor  
Spoilers: None.  
Warnings: None.  
Summary: It's McGee's birthday and Ziva has a present for him, but Tony is worried about what it may be.  
Author's Note: Written as a prize for Oxymoronic Alliteration for correctly guessing my Hangman puzzle. She requested something celebrating McGee's birthday. (And wow, I wrote this in December, but never got around to posting it here, haha. It's been awhile since I've posted much of anything, but I figured I would.)**

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Ziva looked up with a glare as a wad of paper landed on her desk in front of her. Her eyes met Tony's, and she found him smiling, and smiling even wider than usual. "Yes?" she asked.

He stood and rushed to her desk. "A little birdie just told me," he started in a conspiratorial whisper, looking around to make sure they were alone, "that it's a certain Probie's birthday tomorrow." He continued to grin like he was revealing some big secret.

Ziva looked amused. "Well, it is nice that you are so enthused about it, but I already knew. I got his gift ages ago." Tony looked disappointed, so Ziva continued. "I actually keep up with my friends' birthdays."

Tony let out a huff of annoyance, then said, "So what'd you get him?"

She shrugged, turning back to her work. "It's none of your business, Tony. And I am sure you will find out soon enough, anyway."

Tony studied her for a moment. Was she nervous? She seemed to not want to talk as soon as he'd asked her what she'd gotten as her gift. Maybe she was bluffing, had no idea it was McGee's birthday and hadn't gotten anything for him yet. Or maybe . . .

He dropped to his knees in front of her desk, causing Ziva to sigh and look up at him. "What?"

He grinned. "You got him something naughty, didn't you?" Her mouth dropped open and he kept on, running down a list of possible gifts. "Come on, what is it? Strawberry flavored massage lotion, glow-in-the-dark condoms, a female Mossad officer blow-up doll . . .?"

Ziva continued to gape at him, and finally burst out laughing, leaving Tony looking sullen. "Oh, Tony, everything revolves around sex for you, does it not?" She chuckled a few more times. "No, it is not sexual in nature. And, I happen to know that Timothy does not need a blow-up doll." She turned back to her computer.

Tony continued to watch her, and started to speak again. "Timothy?" he repeated, but didn't get any further than that, as Gibbs entered the squad room, causing Tony to scurry back to his desk. He continued to shoot Ziva curious looks, though. There was something she wasn't telling him, and there was more to it than just what she had gotten "Timothy" for his birthday. He was going to find out.

From McGee.

He knew Ziva would never talk, not to mention the fact that he'd probably end up with a pen through his eyelid if he pried anymore. Which also told him that there was something going on.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony's head shot up. "Boss!" he responded.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, while Ziva laughed behind her hand. "Go find McGee and get Jones."

Tony nodded and stood, sticking his tongue out at Ziva as he walked past her desk, not missing her mouthing, "Timothy," at him again. He shook his head as he got on the elevator. She could play all the games she wanted, but he had the upper hand. McGee would tell him anything and everything he wanted to know. He smiled to himself and took his phone from his pocket, pressing the number for McGee on speed dial.

"McGee," the younger agent answered, and Tony couldn't help but grin. Oh, poor little naïve Probie. He had no idea . . . "Hello? Anybody there?"

"Hey, Probie," Tony spoke. "Where are you? Gibbs sent me to track you down."

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be, Tony," McGee responded as though it should have been obvious.

"Okay, okay, McTesty," Tony grumbled. If McGee was being this snarky already, he wasn't going to have any luck talking to him.

"I'm not being testy, Tony," McGee responded in what some people might call a testy manner. He sighed. "How soon you gonna be here?"

Tony looked at his watch. "Shouldn't be more than 15 minutes. Have a coffee or take a chill pill or something in the meantime, okay?" He ended the connection before McGee could respond.

Well, that put a damper on things. But, he was nothing if not an investigator. He could do this. They couldn't fool him that easily. Even if they were fellow investigators. And one of them had mad computer skills and the other had crazy spy skills.

Yeah, he'd be fine.

He'd just be his usual observant self and watch how the two agents acted around each other, see if they were hiding something behind their eyes.

And if that didn't work, he'd just wait until tomorrow and see just what Ziva got McGee for his birthday.

He got out of the elevator and walked to his car, whistling as he got in. Not even a grumpy Probie could bring him down now.

Or, at least, that's what he thought.

Fifteen minutes later, just as Tony had told McGee, Tony arrived at the coffeehouse from where they'd been watching their suspect. He walked up behind McGee, poised to mock attack him and make him spill his latte all over his flawless shirt and jeans, but McGee's voice disrupted his plans.

"I know you're there, Tony."

Tony grumbled to himself and stepped out from behind him, moving around the table and sitting down across the table from McGee and his coffee.

McGee looked up, meeting Tony's eyes with a look of boredom. "What does Gibbs want?"

"Find Jones. Bring him in," Tony repeated Gibbs' words. "Meanwhile, I have news that will put you in a more chipper mood." He grinned while McGee pretended not to look interested. "I think a certain Mossad officer got you something _personal_ for your birthday." He waggled his eyebrows and watched closely to gauge McGee's reaction.

McGee continued to act like he didn't care, but Tony saw the smallest flicker of a smile and no matter what he said, he couldn't keep the light from his eyes. "That's nice," he finally responded, looking at his newspaper again.

Tony smiled to himself. So there was something going on! Though, really, Probie wasn't really the best judge in this situation; he'd always had a bit of a crush on their sexy little Israeli friend. Maybe he just needed to come out and ask it, completely throw him off guard. He'd get an honest reaction that way.

"So," he started casually, waiting until McGee took a sip of his coffee, "you and Ziva have sex yet?"

McGee nearly choked on his coffee, coughing wildly. Tony stood up and slapped him on the back until the coughing stopped, then sat back down again. McGee glared at him.

"I suppose you think you're funny, asking me a question like that," McGee finally said.

Tony smiled lecherously. "No, just trying to get to the bottom of something." McGee opened his mouth to speak, but Tony continued before he could. "Are you or are you not exploring the Middle East? And remember, I'll know if you're lying. I'm trained to detect, McSecret."

McGee's glare stood, but he finally sighed and said, "No. There's nothing going on."

As Tony studied McGee's face, he could tell that, unfortunately for him, he was telling the truth. And yet he could also tell that McGee wished things were different. Well, who wouldn't? It wasn't every day someone like Ziva came into their lives.

"Sorry, Probie," Tony finally responded. "I didn't know." Clearly, Ziva had just been saying what she had to get to him, and it had worked. It was a good thing McGee hadn't been around. Ziva making those kind of comments at him was one thing; he'd dealt with his fair share of snarky women in the past. But Probie was a different animal altogether. He'd just get his hopes up, only to end up a sad, deflated sack of a special agent.

Tony's mind was made up; he was going to talk to Ziva about her behavior, tell her to knock off the sarcasm unless she wanted to alienate McGee. And it wasn't that he was concerned for the guy or anything – he tried to stay away from emotions when he could – it was just that McGee seemed to be the only person who could translate what Abby was saying and they needed him to keep Gibbs happy. Well, to keep Gibbs from shooting everyone out of frustration, at least.

"Well, Probie," Tony spoke, causing McGee to raise his eyes to meet his, "let's get back to work. I'm sure Gibbs is looking for us." He began standing, but McGee's voice halted him.

"What about Jones?"

Tony shrugged. "Okay then. _I'll_ go back to NCIS and _you_ go get Jones." He finished standing, looking satisfied with himself.

"Tony!" McGee whined. "You're not seriously going to leave me to do this by myself, are you?"

Tony walked over next to McGee, patting his shoulder. "You're a good agent, Tim. I know you can handle this on your own." He began walking away, McGee calling after him.

"What are you going to do?" McGee asked, turning in his seat to look at Tony.

Tony smirked to himself, not looking back as he said, "Take care of a 'personnel issue.'" He walked out, leaving McGee looking curious.

Tony's smirk diminished into a serious look as he reached his car. He had a mission, to stop Ziva from hurting McGee before it happened, to keep the team equilibrium how it'd always been. He spent the remainder of his drive back to NCIS thinking of what he would say to Ziva when he saw her, and how he would avoid the wrath of Gibbs.

As he pulled into the NCIS parking lot again, he had his speech firmly implanted in his head and couldn't wait to get inside and give Ziva a piece of his mind. He shut off his car and stepped out, looking for all it was worth like a man on a mission. After making his way quickly through security, he jogged the rest of the squad room, hoping Gibbs wasn't around.

Luckily for him, Ziva was the only one in the area, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "Where's Gibbs?" he decided to ask for sure, in case he was waiting around the corner or under his desk or something.

"He went for coffee." Of course. "Have you found Jones already? That was quick."

"Uh, yeah, maybe," Tony said, distracted by his reason for coming back to NCIS. "McGee's looking for him. And I . . ."

"You left him to do it alone?" Ziva asked, giving Tony a dirty look.

Tony shrugged. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself." Ziva opened her mouth, but an upraised finger from Tony made her shut it again. "And I left him to do it alone because I wanted to speak with you in private, Zee-vah."

She continued to glare. "I am not interested."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Look, I know you enjoy teasing McGee, but I thought you should know," he shrugged, "he thinks you're serious."

Ziva simply looked at him for a moment, then started laughing. Tony frowned at her reaction. "Oh, Tony," Ziva said, smiling. "You have no idea what you are talking about." He got a defensive look on his face and she elaborated before he could protest. "Wait until tomorrow. I will show you what I mean."

Tony frowned as Ziva returned to her work. Hopefully she wasn't going to flirt with McGee thinking that he thought she was joking. She was being more than a little suggestive, and it would just like her to completely lead McGee in the wrong direction, assuming his feelings for her were simply platonic. He shook his head and returned to his desk. He'd find out tomorrow. There wasn't anything he could do now.

The next day, after Tony received a dressing down from Gibbs for leaving McGee to do all the work on finding Jones, he, Ziva and McGee were sitting in near silence when Ziva spoke.

"Since Gibbs is out, now is the perfect time for me to give you your birthday gift, McGee."

He looked up, blushing slightly. Tony rolled his eyes. He didn't foresee this going well. "Oh, Ziva," McGee said, "you didn't have to get me anything."

She had already stood and was walking to his desk, an envelope in her hand. She walked around his desk and handed him the envelope, then kissed him on the cheek, saying, "Do not be silly, McGee. It was a good excuse to do something I have been meaning to do for awhile now."

McGee gave her a momentary look of curiosity before turning back to the envelope and opening it. Tony watched the unfolding scene in disbelief. Surely Ziva wasn't serious . . .

Tony's thoughts were interrupted by a loud gasp from McGee. He looked back to see McGee holding up . . . Just what _was_ he holding?

"A weekend for two at the Ritz Carlton in Georgetown," McGee breathed, answering the question Tony was asking in his mind. "Ziva, this must have cost a fortune! You really didn't . . ."

"McGee," she interrupted him. He looked at her with wide eyes and she couldn't help but smile. "I wanted to do this for you. All you have to say is that you will join me this weekend."

"Ziva," he breathed out again. "If all you wanted was, well, um, me, I guess," he was turning redder by the word, "why something so expensive? I don't need expensive things to win me over." He smiled to himself. "Just the fact that you feel the same way is enough for me."

Tony gagged silently to himself in the background, going unnoticed by both of them, who were too focused on each other to notice. This was getting sappier by the minute. Leave it to McGee.

"I know you do not need money to be happy, McGee," Ziva said. "I do not, either. I just thought you deserved some pampering."

McGee smiled. "Thank you, Ziva." His smile slowly turned curious. "But what are we going to do all weekend?"

Ziva got an evil grin on her face, turning her gaze towards Tony. Her words caused him to gawk at her, having been rendered speechless.

"I told you a blow-up doll was unnecessary."

**THE END!**


End file.
